


the trouble can wait

by ToAStranger



Series: Luster [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Multi, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hits him, as most sudden realizations do, like a freight train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the trouble can wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nezstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/gifts).



> Prompt: I'm thinking angst is in motion, you know. For the courting fic. Stiles on date night with one wolf, then the other. Allowing them kisses, allowing them to touch him, hungering for more now and maybe at some point Duke and Peter fight over something, nothing big, but it reminds Stiles that it can't continue forever. He can't just string them along. He will have to choose and right now he wants them both.

It doesn’t hit him until a few weeks later.  After they’ve crossed a boundary together, even though it wasn’t much of one, they take it as open invitation to kiss, to touch.  Stiles can’t find it in himself to deny them when he craves the affection as much as they want to give it to him. 

It’s summer, thank god.  He doesn’t have to worry about classes or anything.  He ends up spending most of his time temping at the Sheriff’s department, sitting at the front desk and taking general complaints.  He’s majoring in criminology; his dad hasn’t been more proud of him in years.  

When he isn’t hanging out with Scott or the rest of the Pack, he’s out on dates with Deucalion or Peter.  They all know about it, though certainly not all of them are happy about it.  Stiles is happy, though.  In a way.  He enjoys his time with them, just as much as they enjoy theirs.  

Peter takes him out to dinner frequently.  They spend their times talking idly, bantering over curly fries or five star meals— depending on what Peter decides on that night.  Stiles likes the way he talks to him like he’s an equal; Peter always has, but it’s a bit different knowing that the other man is genuinely interested in what Stiles has to say.  He gives him gifts that spark Stiles’ interest: books and films and gadgets that keep him occupied for hours. 

Deucalion does something similar.  Though, mostly, they sit at cafes together and read.  Deucalion lets Stiles ask him questions that neither Peter nor Derek will ever answer about being a born wolf and what it was like to grow up in that situation.  It’s fascinating and just feeds the insatiable fire that burns in Stiles’ chest with a want for more.  

They’re both incredibly fond of kissing him goodbye.  Of letting their lips linger against his when it’s time to part, and giving him a knowing look when they hear his heart beat out a little staccato.  

It doesn’t hit him, however, until Deucalion murmurs against his lips as he’s pulling away after an impromptu night dancing at Jungle.  Stiles is still sweaty and coated in a sheen of glitter from Willam’s body powder, still thrumming with energy as Deucalion cups his jaw in his hands and kisses him senseless. 

“I’m going to miss this,” he says in a breath.  "If you choose Peter.  I’ll miss this dreadfully.“ 

Stiles stares up at him with parted lips, eyes a bit wide.  ”What—?” 

"You’ll have to pick,” Deucalion says, almost apologetically as he brushes the sweaty fringe of Stiles’ hair away from his forehead.  "Between the two of us.  This won’t go on forever, Stiles.“ 

He swallows thickly and nods.  ”Right.  Right, yeah.  I knew that.” 

Deucalion gives him a small smile, then kisses him again.  ”If you were mine already, I’d have you back at my hotel room so I could lick the sweat from your skin.” 

Stiles shudders and Deucalion pets at his hair.  

"Go on inside, Stiles.”  He tells him.  "I’ll see you soon.“ 

Deucalion waits until Stiles has his front door unlocked before he leaves.  When Stiles gets inside, his chest is aching. 

He rushes over to the sink and cranks it on high.  The pipes whine for him as he splashes water over his face a couple of times.  He braces himself there for a long moment, feeling suddenly drained— exhausted and throbbing in a way he didn’t know his body could. 

"Stiles?”  John’s voice startles him to attention, and his father makes his way over with a concerned expression on his face.  "You okay, kiddo?“ 

"Yeah.”  Stiles replies, though it’s weak at best. 

John’s features harden.  ”What happened?  What did they—” 

“Nothing, dad.”  Stiles assure earnestly.  "Nothing, I swear.  It’s just…" 

Stiles’ voice cracks.  He slumps back against the counter, blinking a few times.  His throat feels tight, and he flexes his hands at his sides as he tries to get a hold of himself.  

John draws close, placing a hand at his shoulder.  ”Just talk to me, kiddo.  It can help.” 

“I don’t know what to do.”  Stiles blurts out in a rush, and then there’s a wave of tears slipping down his face.  "I don’t know what to do, dad.  They’re both— I mean, they’re both great but— but I don’t think I can  _do_  this.” 

John sighs and pulls him close, rubbing over his back in slow circles.  Stiles is crying, but it isn’t like he’s sobbing.  Tears are just slipping down his face even as he tries to hold them back, eyes squeezed shut tight.  

“I don’t know what to do." 

"It’s okay,” John mutters.  "It’s okay, Stiles.  You don’t  _have_ to know what to do.  You’re  _eighteen_.  You don’t have to make a decision now.  You don’t have to make one at all.” 

“But I  _do_.  I have to pick, and I don’t— What if I pick the wrong one?  What if I’m not— What if I don’t want this?” 

"Then you don’t pick either of them.”  John replies fiercely, pulling back to give his son a firm look.  "Stiles… just because they’re giving you things, just because they’re taking you out… that doesn’t mean you have to give them  _anything_  in return.” 

“… but what if I want to?" 

"Then it means that you like them.  And there is  _nothing_  wrong with that.  It means that they can make you happy, and you want to make them happy too.  It means you’re human, Stiles.  But it doesn’t mean that you have to decide.  This was  _their_ decision.  Not yours.” 

"But I said yes to the courting—”

“As a boy who is barely legally a man.  Who is still trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life.  If they waited for you to turn eighteen, they can wait for you to be ready to decide.”

Stiles swallows once, then twice.  He nods.  

“Okay.”  He says, voice soft.  "Yeah, okay.“

"You’re young, Stiles.  I know you don’t realize it, but you have your entire life ahead of you.  You’re not supposed to have everything together already.”  John tells him, patting his cheek.  "It’s okay to struggle.“

There’s a new threat of tears.  Stiles nods against and hugs his father.  ”Thanks, dad.”

John just smiles softly, kissing Stiles’ head.  ”You’re welcome, kiddo.”


End file.
